Ouroboros

Wandering through neural mazes,
I am always lost when I find you,
Your pose is casual, blocking the path,
Like you were waiting for me,
Knowing I’d be there even when I didn’t,
Reminding me of memories I never made.

In the waning days of summer,
There is a scar that I am thankful for,
And yet find it so hard to forgive,
It pulses along with my pulse, counting time,
I ache as the trees do, as the leaves fall,
Still I smile at the splendor of colors.

The things that you are so frightened of,
Are the things I love the most,
I held my face to you like a mirror,
A mere, still in a deep forest,
And you ran like a hunted hart,
Avoiding refreshing pools as your thirst swelled.

I am now bound to chase with no quarry,
As I watch you run with no pursuer,
Participants in a game that must be played,
Do I choose to play, or is fate unescapable,
I’ve clawed and surrendered, and of the two,
One felt right, while the other felt… good.

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34 thoughts on “Ouroboros”

> Swarn Gill posted: “Wandering through neural mazes, I am always lost when > I find you, Your pose is casual, blocking the path, Like you were waiting > for me, Knowing I’d be there even when I didn’t, Reminding me of memories I > never made. In the waning days of summer, ” >

There’s no doubt poetry is a special art form. It’s a way of saying something … without really saying it. I particularly like poets that put forth some “teasers” and “taunters” about their subject. My interpretation may be “right” or it may be “wrong,” but for me, in order for the poem to be enjoyable, I need to be able to form some kind of image in my mind of the intended topic.

Having said that, I do tend to agree with Victoria. Sometimes your poetry tends to be a bit too cryptic. Or perhaps I’m just too dense to enjoy it. *sigh*

This is intriguing, Swarn. I get what you’re saying to Steve — that you prefer the reader make their own interpretation that is more personal. Not everyone feels and thinks that way. I’m one who will look up meanings to songs if they are too cryptic. Makes it more interesting. It lets you in.

Oh I love to analyze too, but that doesn’t mean that we’ll discover the songwriter’s intention…it still acts as our own interpretation unless the poet/songwriter in an interview literally says, this is what the song is about or means. lol

This poem itself is truly lovely. I like ‘Reminding me of memories I never made’ … thankful scars, aching as trees do, and more. However I think your ending/last line bears some more creative juice – it doesn’t do the rest of this sweet offering justice. Aloha, Swarn 😉

Thanks for your kind words and the critique. At the end I was trying to signify the struggle between getting out of the “ouroboros” as opposed to staying in, and how it’s probably better to get out of a never ending cycle so you can move forward, but that yet there is something that keeps us trapped. Maybe something that makes us feel good. I take your point though about perhaps not saying it in the best way possible. I was having trouble saying it in 2 lines so that I could keep consistency between the length of the stanzas. I guess it’s the scientist in me that worries about form too much! lol

Rereading your poem after you’ve given us an explanation has certainly shed some light, making it quite brilliant. Ouroboros has several meanings so I found it challenging to assess which one of those meanings you were referring to, especially since you tend to romanticize and humanize physics in your poetry.

Thanks Victoria. Yeah I guess an ouroboros can be interpreted a number of ways. For me it represents a never ending cycle. The symbolism of the creature eating it’s own tail speaks to a devouring of one’s self, but also feeding to create thus has a destruction and creation theme. I apply this theme to the restirring of old memories and emotions and a struggling to break free from the past. I contemplate the conscious and unconscious parts of this struggle, whether this is a cycle one can truly break away from, or whether it is one we want to break away from. It’s layered. A story of a love in which one party’s own cycle of creation and destruction, leads to other person going through a similar cycle in the aftermath. The conclusion about whether it is good or a prison, self-made or otherwise is left up to the reader.

Well, a lovely mystery it is Swarn. I think a poet must give room enough for the reader’s own emotional liquidity to flow into the spaces, and provide some footholds and handholds for them to grab hold of, and you’ve certainly done all of this. I felt your third stanza was especially deft, with mirror giving way to mere, and the hunted hart. That section provided for me all the wonder and sensation that good poetry provides.

Thank you so much Michael. These words mean a lot. And I’m sorry that I still have not finished your story. I’m struggling right now to balance my time effectively in my new role as department chair. What I need to do is stop reading about politics and read things now joyful!

No worries on the story! Congratulations on what sounds like a promotion. I have always found the first few weeks and even months in a new position to be particularly taxing, so completely understand. And yes, I do recommend mixing in something joyful from to time. If you don’t know it already, I think you would like Seth Fried’s writing a great deal, if you haven’t heard of it before. Smart, entertaining, insightful.